Harry Potter and the SARS Nightmare
by J.K Singaporeans
Summary: A new disease called SARS has invaded the wizarding world through the muggles and is spreading like wild fire. No one has the cure, not even the wizards and Hogwarts is in chaos. Soon, Harry and Ron are on the trail of a devious & diabolical plot...


A/N: This is a joint collaboration between my friend, Karen and me. Yes, this is our first fic so please be merciful but do keep the reviews coming. (We want to know what you think.) Yup, our story is based on a real disease that is wreaking havoc in some parts of the world. (Read our userlookup) We hit on the idea, which we think is ingenious. This is set in Harry's 5th year. You'd just have to read all previous 4 books to understand the story. If you read this after the release of the 5th book, pls ignore the 5th book.

Disclaimer: I or rather, _we_ don't own anything, only the pathetic plot! All characters are courtesy of Miss J.K Rowling and SARS belongs to Mother Nature!

Rated PG for a bit of swearing! J     

~*~*~

Chapter 1

Summer came and sneaked up upon Hogwarts balefully, taking it by surprise. The summer-rains were becoming harsher and more frequent during the last few years and the bountiful riot of blossoms that were usually present were however, absent, taken in its place by sticky, hard-to-be-rid-of mud. '_Perhaps_', thought Filch as he polished the mud-laden walkway with _Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess-Remover_ gloomily one blustery evening with his back aching from the exercise, '_Trelawney is finally getting it right after all these years. What else can this weather foretell other than plain misery on its part?_'

"Squish! Squash! Squish!" came the blasted sound as half a dozen muddy shoes wandered onto the walkway, gleefully, it seemed to Filch, stomping and leaving traces of filth.

'_ARRGGGHHH!!!!_' his insides were screaming.

Professors Sprout, Flitwick and Madam Hooch sashayed past him muttering words like, "Sorry Filch!" "Didn't see you there!" "'Just had a round of Qudditch Filch!" Oh… How he wanted to reach out and wring their necks or slap them a detention. Though he was seething with fury, being a squib, he could do nothing but glower angrily.

A sudden clanking of gleaming iron startled him out of his reverie. Filch whirled round to see who else would be out in the open at dinnertime and lo! – It was Professor McGonagall, Deputy Head Mistress of Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor in all her grace and splendour, for she was decked out in a magnificent thick greenish-black coat of Agurey feathers held together like a cloak by a single silver choker.

"Watcha' doing at such an hour, professor? I thought there was a feast and merry-making back at the castle?" Filch inquired, a bit apprehensive about the professor donning a traveller's cloak. It must be something extremely important and pressing to send her packing like that. In fact, if he looked carefully, he might have noticed her one good hand wrapped about the smooth handle of a Nimbus model. Unfortunately, the flickering light by his lamp didn't give much away in the gathering dusk.

"Hogwarts' Business, Filch. We've got a new plague on hand, goodness knows what it might do this time!"

~*~*~

"Up! Get up! Now!" Aunt Petunia rapped smartly on Harry's door.

Harry Potter twitched uncomfortably, rolled over; swollen eyes fluttering open with difficulty. Then he jumped up with a start and quickly scanned his room as if suffering from an attack of nerves. He nearly did, for one horrible moment he thought he was back in his cupboard under the stairs and that Hogwarts and the entire wizarding world was just a pleasant fantasy of his. He cupped his hand over his forehead, pain had been building over his scar the last few days. It wasn't the usual surge of insurmountable pain, rather it was the lingering sort, not very pronounced but pain all the same. 

"Hurry up!" Aunt Petunia called.

"Coming!" with that, Harry slipped into a jumper and bolted down the stairs.

"I want you to go watch the news with Dudley and Vernon in the living room." This statement wasn't surprising to Harry, the Dursleys were still smarting from their last encounter with Harry's friends, the Weasleys. Aunt Petunia made sure that either her or Uncle Vernon kept an eye on Harry. ("You can't be too sure of that boy, Vernon. The last time he turned Duddykins' tongue into a writhing serpent!" – not very loudly of course, for fear of nosy neighbours.) That didn't really bother him though, he was just glad that the Dursley's stayed out of his way most of the time.

Uncle Vernon was reading his newspaper as usual. His forehead reddened over the top of his newspaper - which was upside down – upon Harry's entry into the room. He looked as though he was trying hard to share a cage with a slug.

Harry strolled into the room and chose a squashy recliner, which happened to be situated next to Dudley, who upon catching sight of him, squealed and leapt into Uncle Vernon's arms, wincing like a terrified house-elf. Harry was trying very hard to keep his expression neutral and not give in to the gales of laughter that were rolling through his mind. As it was, Dudley's comical display was too much for Harry to bear. He omitted a snort and made a face whilst trying to suppress himself.

"Eh? What's so funny, boy?" Barked Uncle Vernon, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

"Nothing, nothing…Oh look! The news!" Harry exclaimed and pointed towards the television, shifting Uncle Vernon's attention away from him. Somehow, he didn't want to start an uproar in the household. His friends were rarely corresponding with him recently, especially Sirius. The Dursley's were beginning to notice this and were reverting to their old ways of treating him.

Harry turned to face the television set, it was the 9 o' clock morning news.

"And now, for today's highlights - " the dreary newsreader blared, "The first case of SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome) has surfaced in London. A 70 year-old man by the name of Dedalus Diggle in Worchester, England was found to have contracted the disease and has been warded into the intensive care of the London Medical Institute - "

"Oh, him!" exclaimed Harry without thinking as a live-sized picture of the wizened Dedalus Diggle flashed across the television screen. Harry recognized him, he was the wizard in the bowler's hat he met during his first visit to the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid. Harry noticed that he didn't change much, appearance wise all this while. 

"You know him, boy?" Uncle Vernon huffed, whoever this person was, he knew it must be one of Harry's abnormal lot.

"No, no… I…I saw him in a - _commercial_ once!" lied Harry.

The newsreader had reappeared.

"- He was detained upon entry into the Royal Airport from a Hong Kong flight and reportedly struggled against the authorities."

"No need to tell me what kind of breed he is! Look at how he is dressed!" snorted Uncle Vernon. Dedalus wore a purple Lounge Lizard tailcoat, large clown shoes and to top it all off, his signature bowler's hat! Obviously, he wasn't doing very well trying to pass off as a muggle.

"The public is advised not to travel to SARS affected areas…" The newsreader continued, "SARS is highly infectious, it spreads through close contact with an infected person or object that has been contaminated with the disease. Once infected, the victim will develop a sudden onset of high fever, chills and muscle aches and during the later stages, shortness of breath. If the person does not seek proper medical treatment immediately, it may even lead to death."

"Well, Bullshit!" cried Uncle Vernon, "For one thing, I'm sure Dudders here won't be courting no SARS, he's a healthy young man…" Indeed, Dudley had grown horizontally the size of a small bluey and his small, piggy eyes could hardly be seen with his balloon cheeks squeezing them out of sight. Harry couldn't see in what way he could be termed 'healthy'.

"Unlike some people here…" He shot a nasty look sideways at Harry.

"Ding! ~ Dong!" the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia dropped what she was currently doing (spying on next-door's) and hurried to open the door. Next moment, Piers Polkiss lumbered into the room. Apparently, Dudley had invited him over to flaunt his new asset – a skateboard.

"Run along, boys. Go to the opposite alleyway and practice skateboarding!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. He made a motion to hurry Harry off as well.

"Awww…Not him Pops!" whined Dudley, pleading with sad puppy eyes.

"OH PISS OFF!" He wanted to spend some quality time alone, reading his newspaper, which he didn't have much chance to until now.

Finally, Harry together with a grumbling Dudley and a threatening Piers who kept balling his left hand into a fist and rubbing it with his right, headed for the opposite alleyway. It was dark and dingy, with sunlight filtering through and it had the air of rotten cabbage. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to go into _THAT_ kind of place with Dudley and Piers, possibly the world's biggest bullies. And right he was in suspecting them, because half an hour later, Dudley became bored and fell back to his favourite hobby of Harry punching. Piers held Harry by the arms while Dudley prepared to deal the blow. Harry closed his eyes, quivering, not daring to look or even steal a peek as he prepared for the fist to fall. However, a minute later Harry still could feel nothing but the breeze…_weird_…

"_ARRGGGHHHHH!!!!_" Dudley and Piers were screaming like banshees. Harry's eyes widened to the size of saucers, for there, standing right in front of him was Professor McGonagall dressed in not her usual emerald green robes, but a greenish-black cloak of feathers. She had materialized from a poised, ginger tabby cat into a fully-grown witch, golden-rimmed spectacles and all.  

Dudley and Piers stood there, rooted to the spot, screaming their lungs out. It was only when Piers cried, "Run!" were they jolted from their senses. They swerved round and took to their heels, Dudley clenching his buttocks and clasping a hand over his mouth as he ran. At that moment, Professor McGonagall raised her wand and with a casual flick of her wrist, sent two bolts of lightning at each of the boys. One of them scathed Piers' hair, reducing it to thin crisps while the other aimed Dudley's backside, knocking him off his feet and rocketing him several feet forward. With a "Oomph!" Dudley landed on his bum in a poor heap, unceremoniously tearing his jeans, which revealed his piggy covered boxers.

"Were you supposed to do that, professor?" asked Harry, concern etched on his face. It wasn't like Professor McGonagall to go around blasting muggles.

"Er – not quite. Though I think it won't be much of a fuss, your cousin Dudley knows about us, doesn't he, Potter?" replied Professor McGonagall turning a shade of scarlet and passing a sideways coy glance at Harry like a school girl caught red-handed.

"He does, but not Piers!" Harry pointed him out.

"My Gods! Albus is going to _fry_ me! Not to worry though!" Professor McGonagall had regained her composure and strict-teacher routine. She raised her wand again and brought it down with a swish. A pink shimmer, which was reminiscent of a ribbon, erupted from the tip of her wand and sped straight at Piers. Harry thought it was going to hit Piers like the bolt of lightning did to Dudley, but it encircled him, careening around his head before disappearing into thin air.

"What am I doing here?" Piers mumbled foolishly, scratching his head like an ape does when searching for fleas and gazing around dumbly as if he suddenly forgot where he lived.

"That's the most advanced form of memory charms," Professor McGonagall informed Harry, "It probably wiped out his entire memory banks. The harrowing event was so traumatising, I'm afraid if I performed the minor ones it might still haunt him! Mind you don't go telling Albus or anyone what I just did."

Harry solemnly agreed, though he can't help wondering if that spell he just saw was what Lockhart had performed but which backfired on him three years ago. 

"Professor, can a really powerful wizard extract what he remembered although you wiped his memory blank?" Harry inquired, suddenly remembering the dream he had the previous year about Voldemort telling his servant Wormtail how he had extracted information out of Bertha Jorkins.

"Yes of course, Potter. But I doubt many wizards can unless you're saying Albus or You-Know-Who." She gave an involuntary shudder and turned towards where a little mice was standing, "Which, reminds me. I've got to be on my way to Hogwarts, now that I've completed Albus' mission." With a swish and a flick, the mice before her feet glowed blue for a second and next moment, she was staring into the face of an old and infirm Dedalus Diggle. Upon catching sight of Harry, he gave a toothless grin and bowed nervously.

"Mr. Potter, how very honoured I am to chance upon you again!" He wrenched Harry's hand and shook the whole arm vigorously.

Harry, remembering how the virus spreads, wriggled his hand free and jumped back with a yelp.

"You need not worry, Potter. I had him under a whole body-shield charm before we got here. No sweat droplets are released into the atmosphere, just be wary of contact with the mouth…"

Harry nodded, he wasn't going to kiss Dedalus anyway.

"Dedalus Diggle! Never had much sense! He insisted on taking a muggle flight instead of relying on the good old broomstick! I had to rescue him from that muggle hospital! He threw a fit and howled for the Minister of Magic! Imagine that! Luckily the muggles thought he was mentally subnormal." McGonagall trailed in exasperation, "We managed to track him down fortunately, though I must say it was most traumatic! What with all the plague going on, he's giving the ministry and us a handful! - "

"Ermm… You said _plague_, professor?"

"Yes, haven't you been reading the Daily Prophet, Potter? (Harry shook his head.) Well, the wizarding world is down with a serious case of SARS. It came from the muggles side. The Ministry of Magic kept saying that it is but a little muggle plague, nothing they can't find a cure to, but I reckon that it's all talk. It's been so long, yet there's no news from them. They don't want to send the people into a flurry. Heaven knows, this maybe the first time a plague can't be subdued by magic!" Professor McGonagall exchanged a dark look with Harry and continued shakily, "Seven have died. It won't be long before it hits Hogwarts too, when school reopens." At this, she blew her nose, trembling. Harry shifted uncomfortably, he wasn't used to seeing such a tough woman break down.

For the first time, Harry suddenly realized the seriousness in her sentences. If magic couldn't put an end to a plague, he can't see how the muggles are going to have better luck. This was worse than worst. With the reopening of school, the young wizards and witches would be most vulnerable to the disease.

"Well, enough talk! I suppose you're getting tired of it too, Potter." She whipped out her wand, muttered "_Accio!"_ and soon enough, Harry's belongings together with his Firebolt and Hedwig in her cage (who clicked her beak furiously at Harry, looking rather annoyed with her ruffled feathers) came zooming towards them from the Dursleys'. Professor McGonagall with Harry and Dedalus bringing up the rear mounted the broom and kicked off, leaving Privet Drive behind. (Harry thought he glimpsed Uncle Vernon livid with fury, yelling up at him and whirling his fist in the air when they glided over No.4)

"Umm, professor?" They were fifty feet above ground flying under an invisibility spell cast by Professor McGonagall. Although Harry best thought not to ask McGonagall questions since she was rather strict and they weren't really close (Neither was she understanding like Dumbledore), he felt the urge as a thousand questions exploded in his mind.

"Yes, Potter?" She answered him, her voice sharp and rapped.

"I was just wondering, why are you supposed to fetch me from the Dursleys'? And why did you have to rescue Mr. Diggle?"

"I will not answer the first, you'll hear it from Albus. As for why I have to rescue that eccentric and abysmal person – Doesn't it make _sense_ to you, Potter? We didn't want the muggles to become suspicious… Lest they found out about us! Anyway, Dedalus belongs to the wizarding world. We solve _our_ problems, so the Ministry isn't letting them interfere." McGonagall sniffed as she manoeuvred the handle gracefully, diving and soaring.

Harry clammed up during the rest of the trip, his face full of anxiety. Firstly, he was quite surprised and shocked by Professor McGonagall's sudden appearance, not to mention impeccable McGonagall performing restricted magic on muggles. Secondly, he didn't like what was happening, being called back _home_ early in the summer hols. (Hogwarts was like a home to him. It stored all his happy memories and experiences.) Thirdly, the news of the widespread of a contagious disease upsetting the wizarding world was appalling. He didn't think his heart could take any more surprises.

Finally, they touched ground. It was Harry's Hogwarts that loomed over him, magnificent and towering as ever. Harry and Dedalus were steered to the Entrance Hall by Professor McGonagall during, which, they passed a grumbling Filch. ("ARRGGHHH!! Not _AGAIN_?!") They climbed a few magical staircases and walked a few corridors before coming face-to-face with the large gargoyle statue. Professor McGonagall gave the password ("Ice Mice!") and the gargoyle obediently leapt aside revealing a staircase. They clambered onto the spiralling staircase and McGonagall flung open the door when they reached the top, revealing an astonishing sight. (At least to Harry.)

"Ahh…Harry, I was expecting you," cried Dumbledore, his arms open wide in Harry's direction as if welcoming him.

Harry stared. The whole room stared back. He had tumbled in on a congregation.

A/N: I'll update with a second chapter soon. Not that anyone would read this anyway. Before I go, just would like to wish all of you luck in obtaining the 5th book due this Saturday! – Jasmine. 


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